


Zeno's Paradox

by Philosopher_King



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Brotherly Angst, Brotherly Bonding, Brotherly Love, Dysfunctional Family, Family Drama, Family Issues, Gen, Post-Ragnarok, the HUG
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-29 07:31:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12626163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philosopher_King/pseuds/Philosopher_King
Summary: "It's not the words 'I'm here' that tell him; those are late to the fair. It's the faint clap of the bottle stopper hitting the palm of Loki's hand, then the softer echo of his fingers closing around it."Thor doesn’t even know whether he's surprised or not; he can hardly tell what he feels. But he is a god and a king and a man of his word, so he opens his arms."





	Zeno's Paradox

**Author's Note:**

> How did another philosophy reference get in there? I am so fucking predictable.

It’s not the words “I’m here” that tell him; those are late to the fair. It’s the faint clap of the bottle stopper hitting the palm of Loki’s hand, then the softer echo of his fingers closing around it.

Thor doesn’t even know whether he’s surprised or not; he can hardly tell what he feels. But he is a god and a king and a man of his word, so he opens his arms.

It seems to take Loki an age to cross the room. Absurdly, Thor remembers Loki telling him centuries ago about an argument that motion should be impossible. To get to the target, an arrow must first cross half of the distance, then half of the remaining distance, and so on ad infinitum. It should never reach its goal. Considered in reverse, it should never even be able to leave the string.

And yet somehow Loki is in his arms now. Thor hardly even remembers closing them around him. Haven’t they always been this way? Motion should be impossible.

“I knew you’d come back,” he says. He finds his voice is hoarse.

“Here?” Loki asks. Thor doesn’t hear it so much as feel its melody resonate in his chest, as familiar as the feeling of Loki’s arms around his waist or the sharp jut of his chin into Thor’s shoulder. “Or to Asgard?”

“Asgard.” Thor still doesn’t know the answer to the other question.

“You did, did you?” Thor can hear in his voice the skeptical lift of his eyebrow, though he cannot see it because they have not moved from their embrace. The argument has never seemed so compelling.

“Well, ‘knew’ might be too strong,” Thor admits. His chuckle vibrates through both their chests.

“You _hoped,_ more like.”

“No, ‘hoped’ is too weak. I _believed_ you’d come.”

“And that’s why you said what you did. That I could be more.”

“Mmm.”

Loki pulls away, and the look on his face is strange. “It seems I’ve spent my whole life trying to be more. I was never enough.”

Thor shakes his head. His hand itches to reach out again, to come to rest behind Loki’s neck. “You were. But in trying so hard to be more, you made yourself less.”

Loki blows air sharply through his nose; it might be meant as a laugh. “I think I understand _her_ better than I’d like.”

Thor shakes his head more forcefully and allows himself to grip Loki’s shoulder. “You’re not her.”

“But I could have been.” Loki’s voice sounds strained, almost strangled. “I could still be. A weapon in his hand…”

Loki’s gaze is cast down, so Thor ducks his head a little to meet it deliberately. “So could I have been, if he had not reined me in.”

Now Loki shakes his head, vehement. “No. You always… you always had more of Mother in you.” Loki’s voice has been choked almost to a whisper. “And now they’re both gone.”

Thor had scarcely thought to say it, even to himself. “I lost my father” was only one in a list of grievances that had fueled his rage; and that had been for the best, while he still had battles to fight. Now the fire has burned itself out and he is forced to confront the desolation that is left.

It seems that Loki is truly confronting his loss for the first time, as well. He had spent weeks on Sakaar before Thor arrived; he might have had time then to grieve for their father. But Thor also knows that Loki was trying to survive in a dangerous alien world, no less than Thor was when he fought for his life in the Grandmaster’s arena. Thor wonders what bargains he had to make to survive—not only this last time, but the times before.

He will ask later; they will have time later. Now is not the time, because Loki has turned away and stands with his head bowed, one hand over his mouth and the other arm clutched to his stomach as if it pains him. For all his lies and dissembling, he has never been very good at hiding his tears.

Thor goes to him and holds out his arms again. It is all he knows how to do. He wishes that what Loki sees of their mother in him would tell him what to say; but she is silent.

Instead Loki speaks, in bursts and halts. “I wanted to rage at him. I wanted to ask him why, why, why… all of it. But I was too angry even for that. And I knew… I thought he would only lie again. As he always does. Did.” An errant sob follows the self-correction, unwilling to be held back. “And now I’ll never have the chance. To ask, or to say everything that was… rotting in me.” Loki coughs, and for a fleeting moment Thor thinks he can hear it, the rage and resentment filling his lungs, drowning him from the inside.

“He loved you,” is all Thor can think to say.

“Oh, of course he did.” The poison spills out in Loki’s voice. “But what does that mean? What does his love give me? Any more than my love has ever given you?”

“No more and no less.”

Loki pulls away again and looks down, his mouth drawn in a grimace.

“I don’t want to be her. And I don’t want to be him, either.”

“You don’t have to be. Our courses are not fixed, though it can seem that way when the ruts in the road are deep enough.”

Loki snorts. “Yes, thank you for reminding me that I’d dug myself into a rut. I don’t think you made your point forcefully enough when you electrocuted it into my veins.”

Thor feels a twinge of guilt, though he’s not willing to say he was unjustified. “You had some help with the digging,” he offers.

Loki gives him a weak smile. “I should go, and let you get some sleep. And find somewhere to sleep, myself.” He turns and starts toward the door. Thor can hardly understand how he is capable of motion, but he is; he has proven that thoroughly this day.

“Stay with me,” he blurts out.

Loki turns back and gives him a quizzical look.

“There aren’t enough rooms on this ship as it is,” Thor explains hurriedly. “Heimdall insisted that I take the captain’s stateroom, as befit a king… but I cannot justify taking so much space all to myself. There is more than enough room for both of us, and we are used to sharing quarters. Even a bed, when needed. No one will think anything of it.”

Loki hesitates. There is suspicion in his eyes, and guilt, and longing.

Thor tries flattery, with just a touch of braggadocio. “I need my first advisor close at hand, do I not?”

“If my king commands it,” Loki says, bowing his head, his smile still faint but stronger.

Thor doesn’t think he’s comfortable with that idea. “Your brother asks,” he says softly.

“Yes,” Loki answers. “I’ll stay.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please consider checking out some of my other fics! I write both Thor/Loki and gen fic that focuses on their brotherly relationship. And if you were amused by the philosophical reference/metaphor, there's a lot more where that came from... (I'm a philosophy grad student writing a dissertation on Nietzsche, so he makes a lot of appearances in my fic.)


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